That Sense of Wonder

Hutch starts thinking and comes to an amazing conclusion.

Life was an unbelievable jumble of this and that intruding on what he always hoped could be an orderly existence. It was bad enough that he generally had to work beyond the norm of an eight-hour day, but to have that compounded with needing a recovery day before he could enjoy his own plans was getting to be a pain in the ass.

Life was passing him by, burying his hopes and dreams under promises of soon, maybe tomorrow, and, “I’ll get to it later” scenarios. The down time was stretching into the only time, and when he occasionally surfaced to look around, the enormity of the backlog did nothing to improve his outlook. The frantic catch-up running around just to keep even, the almost desperate playtime and false gaiety were shutting him down, driving him back into his hole.

The one stable, bright spot that always overcame his lethargy was his partner. Although showing all the signs of suffering his own malaise, Starsky was always cheerful, perky and disgustingly chipper, seemingly content to let his remembered sense of play out to play. And its effect on him was magic. When they could escape the urgency of their lives and settle into the captured serenity of a world of their own making, it all dropped away from him and he was new again. He could be who he was and let go of his pretences. He no longer felt driven to perform, to succeed despite the odds, to pretend his life was as he wanted and planned. Everything became amazingly simple.

For the longest time he took it as a natural part of who they were, then, as time piled up tragedy after disaster after disillusion, he began to question the intensity and importance of the only real thing in his life. Slowly it dawned on him that every emotional, supportive and caring element he looked for in others had always been a part of his relationship with Starsky. Only his family came closer to providing the safe haven he needed at times like this, but that was only if he caught them on a good day.

It was amazing really, because he didn’t have to tell Starsky, didn’t have to explain or excuse his actions or moods. But what made him sit up and take notice finally was that his response to Starsky was just as intense and caring. He was not just a taker. He cherished and protected Starsky with equal compassion and sensitivity. In all his memory he could find no one to whom he exhibited such devotion and unselfishness. It made him view himself in a much better light. But, more importantly, he began examining his relationship with Starsky.

Introspection was almost his religion, but strangely when he seriously let his mind dwell on it, there was nothing to think about. Starsky was just there, and the simplicity of that made him accept Starsky’s presence as a given, often ignored in its innocent interplay with his own psyche.

What was the best in him Starsky grabbed and ran and played with, dragging him along for the fun. What was the worst in him Starsky teased, tormented and beat the hell out of until he was willing to give it up and learn. It suddenly struck him that Starsky was a very good teacher; he could be gentle or cutting; down and dirty or angelic; intensely insightful or shyly innocent as the occasion demanded. All with one purpose in mind—get to the truth and speak it. For one who often hid from himself, that could be a very painful experience.

It also slowly dawned on him that the best times of his life where spent in Starsky’s company. The man had this innate sense of what he needed at any given time, be it a night suffering through creature-features; a companionable beer and pool at Huggy’s, or a wild evening spent bar hopping with lovely ladies to distract them. He had begrudgingly gone on excursions into God’s country with him, barely concealing his nervousness at meeting any of nature’s predators no matter what their size. He himself had been dragged to wrestling matches, car rallies and weird haunts to meet and play with the most extraordinary characters, enjoying every minute of it.

The why of his enjoyment had snuck up on him, and he had to acknowledge that being in Starsky’s company made everything delightful and fun. All those things he would never have done on his own became bearable and intriguing only because Starsky’s enthusiasm and verve for life made them so. He found himself seeking out and encouraging his impulsive bundle of fire and gradually slipped into a routine of togetherness that he now found all compelling and desirable.

He couldn’t hide from that sense of wonder that overtook him every time Starsky pulled him from the edge and cradled him in strong, loving arms that held him together until he could face the world again. It was an unspoken need in him that was answered with unselfish devotion and humourous insight, drawing him out of himself and into the light.

What also snuck up on him was his love for the man. It literally overwhelmed every concept and meaning of the word he had ever had. Fairy tales had been written about the often sought after but never achieved perfection of true love. He had been in love before, but this went beyond the accepted exchange of emotion and sex between two lovers. This was spiritual, destiny, or fate. Whatever. The very thought of losing Starsky, as he had very nearly done, drove him frantic with imagined empty lonely years without his soul mate—yes, that was it. Starsky was his soul mate, his centuries-old companion who made his existence worthy of life and without whom he could not accomplish his life’s mission.

He felt staggered by the immense weight and import of their connection, yet at the same time his soul took flight in the beauty and truth of his awakened reality. He belonged to Starsky in every imaginable way, as Starsky belong to him.

Well, halleluiah. Now that that was out of the way, all he had to do was convince Starsky, but somehow he just knew that Starsky was light years ahead of him in understanding what formed the foundation of their relationship and was just waiting for Hutch to catch up.

The future indeed held promise, and he felt giddy at the prospect and again wrapped in that sense of wonder. He could hardly wait, and the Hutch that greeted Starsky the next morning was ready to start the journey. And Starsky knew, and simply smiled.